


CU Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey, Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017)
Genre: I love how that's what it's called- that's just what it's called, Other, Prompt writing, Purple Potty Universe, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-30 11:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of quick one-shot drabbles written in response to prompts. The challenge for me is to1) write them in under 30 minutes2) keep them to under 2,000 words3) NOT EDIT THEM because I perpetually kill myself with editing.As such, these are written in one continuous go. They're a little chunky... but I like them, and the challenge has been fun thus far. If I get any more, I'll add them here. If you're interested in sending me a prompt, check out my tumblr, search for the tag 'prompt', and then send me the number what you're looking for (in short detail).Some of these may play off of eachother (and if they do, I'll try to denote it) but most of them are just stand-alone pieces with no connection to any timeline or plot.Cheers!





	1. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream!?”

**Anonymous asked:**  could i possibly suggest 53 with cu/edith?

Buddy- I got you *finger guns*   
(Honestly, I’m so glad someone asked! And I hope you like it- I basically wrote it all in one go) 

* * *

**“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream!?”**

* * *

       It was the tapping that woke her up, though she had figured, perhaps, it was an overly eager bird waiting for her to put out the seed that she usually did.

       What made her get out of bed was when the window broke.

       In a moment, the covers were thrown off, the end-table lamp in hand, and she was five seconds shy of bringing it down on whoever was unfortunate enough to have decided to break into her apartment when-

       “Well hello!”

       “Ben-Cap-what?” she gasped, arms going limp, the lamp loosely swinging in her grip, “What?”

       “What indeed, fair citizen!” He was practically beaming up at her, trying to wiggle his way through her bedroom window. It took a moment for Edith to process that such an idea was not probably the brightest, but before she could say anything, he finally popped free and fell flat on to his back with his feet propped up on her sill.

       Edith’s mouth hung open, her brain desperately trying to catch up to the events at hand, “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

       “Better than okay!” Captain gleefully cheered as he scrambled to his feet, “I found the most wonderful gentleman who, believe it or not, sells icream in dollops the size of small children’s heads, and that- if you’ve never seen a child’s head- that is a lot. A lot a lot.”

       He stood there, smiling at her, but Edith still couldn’t get the pieces to click.

       “A lot a lot,” Captain repeated, slower, hands gesturing in front of him to give her a rough estimate of size so that she understood what he ment, but when she still did not reply, he seemed, to her, to wilt a little bit, “I suppose directness is needed, but, ah-” and here, he tugged at the knot of his cape as he looked in every direction but her, “Haha, I didn’t practice that on my way here. Too busy thinking of flavors.”  

       And that’s when everything made sense.

       “On a Tuesday!” Edith didn’t mean to shout, but the adrenalin was still rushing through her veins and he- and he didn’t mean it, she knew that- but he was standing there in front of her like she should get this and, “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream! On a Tuesday! Who breaks someone’s window just to ask- It’s 4am!”

       “Would a Wednesday be better?”

       “Captain that’s not the point! You have to KNOCK, okay? You can’t just break my window! And the sun isn’t out yet!”

       “I did knock.”

       “You have to knock and wait for me to answer.”

       “Oh,” he examined the broken window with a look of genuine surprise, “Oh I forgot that bit.”

       “Yeah, you did.”

       Captain counted on his fingers, “That makes this the sixth time.”

       “I’m aware.”

       “You know though,” Captain said, smiling at her once more, “They have caramel, I double checked, and they have double fudge, and they let you pick two flavors if you get two scoops.”

       “Captain, the window-”

       “I know the window- knock knock- knock and wait- yes- but this is important too, because I know you can’t pick your favorite flavor- I remember from last time I asked you- so I made sure they had both.”

       Edith’s train of thought, riding on the rails of the broken glass she knew she’d have to pick out of her carpet again, came to a screeching halt as she processed what he had just said.She knew, oh she knew, no matter how she tried to figure out how to explain the transgression, he wouldn’t understand, not tonight. He just…he just wouldn’t- it wouldn’t make sense to him. That was the biggest degree of separation between Ben and Captain, and while sometimes it was perfectly needed, this freedom, this eagerness, sometimes, it was the last thing she wanted, but that didn’t make it bad. It just ment…he didn’t quite get it yet. Slowly, the anger bled out as she watched him, watched him watching her back with such a look of hesitant optimism.

       (And maybe a little something else, but she wasn’t gonna look into it too far, not at 4 in the bleeding morning on a Tuesday.)

       Edith ran the hand not still holding on to the lamp through her hair as she sighed, “Friday. Friday would work.”

       Captain seemed to beam, and Edith quickly amended, “But you have to knock, okay? It- It makes me happier when you knock and wait for me. Alright?”

       “Oh!” his whole face seemed to light up, “Oh, yes, yesyes, I can do that. I can wait. And Friday.”

       “And NOT 4am.”

       “And not 4am.”

       “Come when it’s still light out.”

       “Yes.”

       “Okay,” Edith laughed quietly, placing a hand on Captain’s cheek, “Now that- now that all that’s sorted…could you please…let me finish sleeping?”

       Captain made a soft noise, one hand lifting as though it were about to hold Edith’s hand to his face, but then, he took a step backward, “But of course!. Sleep is important, or so I am told. I do not need sleep, but then, that is why I am a defender! Justice never rests, just as the 24-hour drive-throughs never rest! Such is the life of a hero! Farewell, fair citizen! TRA LA LAAA!”

       And back out the window he went, leaving Edith in the still of her bedroom, a tired laugh blooming in her fluttering heart and a hopeful eye on the end of the week. 


	2. “Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

**[jackie-sugarskull](http://jackie-sugarskull.tumblr.com/) asked:**  For the Drabble thing, think you could do #5 with Egg Casserole?

Ah, I had fun with this. Again, I kind of imagine them being together for a while before actually declaring it officially, just because… boy, they’re such socially awkward and anxious babies, arent’ they?[ _Also, I ended up doing this as a sequel to this prompt request by an Anon, so if you’d like to read that first, you can, but you don’t have to._](https://rabbitkinder.tumblr.com/post/171712281446/could-i-possibly-suggest-53-with-cuedith)  
(Again, this was written all in one go with little to no editing) (I think I’m gonna make a file of these on Archive, honestly… I like them.) 

* * *

**“Wait a minute, are you jealous?”**

* * *

       “Again?” **  
**

       “Yeah,” Edith sighed, twirling the phone cord around her finger as she eyed the broken window in her bedroom, “Again.”

       “Did you let your landlord know?”

       “I called him just before I called you.”

       “You should also call the police. I don’t like how this keeps happening to you and nobody else in your building.”

       Edith rolled her eyes at that, clicking her tongue. It was just- it was so aggravating, doing this back and forth every time he broke into her apartment- any time he did ANYTHING. When he was Captain, she couldn’t get him to remember basic social norms, yet he would always act on the little details Ben couldn’t seem to bring himself to, and when he was Ben, he couldn’t let her be when it came to making her own decisions, but yet was so overly conscious of her and the space around her, as well as his actions within those spaces, that he could almost be seen as old fashioned and gentlemanly were it not for the fact that he was still very much Ben and Ben was too awkward to ever be a gentleman.

       It was like a bad soap opera, like one of those old German fairy tales reimagined as a Disney movie. More than anything, though, it was hard keeping it all straight in her head sometimes.

       Like clockwork though, Ben’s voice became harder as he edged out, “Listen, I know you think it’s just what it is, but I really don’t feel comfortable-”

       “Ben, it’s not a big deal.”

       “It is a big deal! That’s the sixth time in two months!”

       “It’s just an honest accident.”

       “You can’t know that for sure-”

       “I can, actually,” she stomped her foot as she said it, though she felt like a child the moment after, “I talked to him about it.” 

       “Him?”

       Oh.

       Oh no.

       “Who’s what now?” Edith did her very best to put on her innocent voice, even if she knew it wasn’t going to work.

       “You just said him.”

       “Did I?”

       “Edith-” shit, that was a tone of voice she had never heard him use before, “Who. Is. He.”  

       “I-,” Edith hesitated, biting the corner of her lip as she looked at the glass sparkling on her carpet. Welp, she tried, “I don’t think you’d…believe me if I told you.”

       “Tell me anyway.”

       Oh, here it goes.

       Taking a deep breath, Edith prepared herself as she said, as even-toned as possible into the phone receiver, “Captain Underpants.”

       Dead silence.

       It stretched forever, and Edith started tapping on the dresser trying to ease her nerves, until-

       “Oh.”

       And that was it.

       But it wasn’t, because that tone was still in his voice and if nothing else, that was what was freaking her out the most. He wasn’t mad- she knew what he sounded like when he was mad- this was not that. While that might have been good, it was also not enough to calm her.

       “Uh, yeah,” she coughed, tapping harder, “He just- I guess he’s in the area every now and again and he-”

       “Why does he know where you live?”

       She didn’t have to lie for this one- that was good, “Remember that date you and I went on? To the Italian place? After everything went to hell, he took me home.”

       “Oh.”

       “Yeah…” 

       “…Why does he keep coming back?”

       Edith hesitated. She could be truthful for this one too, but… no- better to just say what was without giving too much away- it made things easier to remember later, “I think…he just likes the company. I think sometimes he gets lonely.”

       “…So he comes to you.”

       “Yeah-”

       “Breaking into your house six times in the span of two months-”

       Shit, “Ben, hold up-”

       “-at the ass crack of dawn-”

       “Ben-”

       “-and you didn’t think to let me know!”

       “I didn’t need to let you know!” the hand Edith had been tapping against the dresser balled into a fist, “I was fine! I am fine! Last night he came over to tell me he found a place that has my favorite flavors of ice cream and that was it. He just wanted to let me know and ask me if I wanted to go out with him and-”

       The noise Benjamin made on the other end of the line sounded like he was choking, and for a moment, Edith froze, genuinely worried, until suddenly, it clicked.

       “Wait a minute,” she mumbled, unable to keep a grin from splitting her face wide, “Are you jealous?”

       “Je-? No!” Edith had to pull the phone away from her ear, he was so loud, “No! I j-j-just- he ah-asked- you- what-”

       “You aa-aaare!” she sang into the receiver, unable to keep the cheer from her voice. Of all the results this conversation could have held, it didn’t even dawn on her that this could be one of them, and oh, there was a delicious amount of irony here, “You are jealous. Oh my god, Ben-”

       “I’m not!”

       “Benny-”

       “D-d-don’t b-b-‘Benny’ me, I don’t need to be p-p-placated! Did he n-n-not-”

       “Oh my god, Ben, It’s fine-”

       “Y-y-y- fuck-hooo- it’s n-n-not like you said-”

       “I did say it was fine, Ben. I said he could come over, but-.”  

       “WHY? Edith he’s a s-s-STRANGE m-m-MAN in his UNDERWEAR! W-w-with SUPER p-p-POWERS!”

       “IIII dunnooo,” Edith twirled the phone cord around her finger again, “I think he’s nice. I think you two would get along.”  

       She had to hold the phone away from her again, both because of how loud he was getting and because she didn’t want him to hear her laugh as he continued to stumble over his words, a dead giveaway to the fact that he was out of his comfort zone, “He’s s-s-still a m-m-man in his underwear crawling through your w-w-window!”

       “I dunno, I think it’s kinda sweet. And haven’t you ever dreamed of someone coming through your bedroom window?” Edith swore she could hear Ben’s brain fry on the other end of the line, and she giggled, “Oo, well I mean- your house is a ranch. I could try the next time I come over, if you want-”

       “No! No-no that’s n-n-not-!

       “I’m not doing it in my underwear though, I’m not about to steal his gig.”

       She cackled when she heard his strangled scream on the other end.

       “D-d-did it not occur to him that y-y-you were-”

       Oh, but there was something.

       “What, Benjamin? That I was what.”

       She couldn’t help it. If he was going to go down that route, then so was she. Edith wanted to hear him say it, admit it.

       She wanted him to say that she was his.

       It was in every romance she had ever read, from Austin to Bronte, from Keats to Shelly, and if there was ever a moment she was going to get it, it was going to be now.

       Biting her lip, eagerness in every atom of her, she waited. Over the line, she heard Ben take a few steadying breaths.

       “Did he ever think to ask if you already… had…someone.”

       Edith froze, processing what he said, how he said it. How soft and hesitant it was, how he placed himself in the palm of her hand, versus the outcome she had been looking for. But then, Ben really wasn’t a ‘mine’ kind of person, now was he? How long had he waited to ask her out in the first place out of worry he was stepping over a line? How long had he waited to even touch her hand, let alone hold it?

       Honestly, it was almost laughable to imagine he’d do anything differently.

       “Goodness gracious, Ben,” she chuckled, breathless, “Are you officially asking if I’d like to date you?”

       “…Yes.”

       “Well,” she ducked her head, spinning awkwardly on her heels and glad of the fact he couldn’t see her right now, even though she’d have killed to see his face, “Well…can’t say no to that, when you ask so nicely.”

       “…Is that a-”

       “Yes, that’s a yes, Ben.”

       “Ha..haha- ah-,” It was almost possible to picture the blush creeping up and around his ears, “Yay…I mean-!”

       She laughed, and here again, Edith was reminded of why she liked him so much.


	3. “I’m pregnant”

**[desk-of-employee432](http://desk-of-employee432.tumblr.com/) asked:**  ok here's 4, pick which one you wanna do. 'I'm pregnant' "I thought I lost you/almost lost you', 'teach me how to fight' (151 but I forgot what that was I"m sorry) Egg Casserole. Go

I hope you know I cried during the writing of this.  
(Again, written all in one go)

* * *

**“I’m pregnant”  
**

* * *

       Sunday morning started with the sound of water running in the bathroom across the hall, with the streetlights bleeding in through the back curtains, and with Ben waking up alone.

       At 5am.

       In the middle of winter break.

       He ran a hand down his face, trying to rid himself of the stupor of sleep as he sat up slowly in an attempt to hear better. After living with someone for three years, you get use to patterns, because people are creatures of habit. When that person was your spouse though, you learn that it’s wise to memorize them. He knew Edith putzed about at 1 or 3 in the morning, but then, she’d come back, and they usually didn’t get out of bed until at least 8 once school was out.

       The toilet flushed again, and once more, the walls seemed to shake to life. Maybe he should have gotten that looked at, but it was an old house. Old houses did that. It was normal.

       It was just in his head that it seemed so loud.   

       Sitting there, quietly, he listened to the pipes. Ben figured he was just being dumb. If it was something important, Edith usually would rouse him from rest in order to make sure he knew what was going on, or ask him to take care of it. Two weeks ago she had gotten up to get a glass of water since the one by her bed was empty, but woke him with frantic nudging once she saw the large spider on the headboard.

       Again though, that was at 1 o’clock.

       The toilet flushed a third time, and that was when he decided to get out of bed. Creeping so that the floorboards would not give him away, he made his way across the hall and waited, hand hovering over the doorknob. For a split second after all the water had gone to where it needed to go, after the walls had stopped shaking, there was silence.

       A split second before he heard the toilet flush again, though, Ben also heard Edith throw up.

       “Christ,” he mumbled, opening the door to find her curled around the toilet bowl, one hand holding her hair back and the other pinning the lid to the back of the reservoir, “Edith, what do you need?”

       Ben heard rather than saw her vomit again, her shoulders shaking for a moment before going still once more, and he winced.

       “Water,” she mumbled, taking a deep breath before saying again, softer, “Water would be good.”    

       Moving around her carefully, he grabbed the cup on the side of the sink and filled it before kneeling next to her, handing her the cup as he took charge of keeping her hair out of her face.

       “Sip slowly,” he muttered, and she nodded even while she drank half the water in one go, causing him to still her hand, “Sip.”

       “Ben, could you just-”

       “If this is the flu, you’re gonna make it worse trying to drink too quickly.”

       “It’s-,” but once again, her face was in the toilet, the hand that had been holding the glass shoving it towards Ben. Attempting to both catch it and hold her hair back, he inevitably let it slip from his hands, the water splattering across his pajamas as the cup rolled until it rested against the far wall of the bathroom. Ben sighed, shifting his weight to fully rest against the door frame, switching hands so that his left held back her hair while his right tried to rub reassuring circles into her back. Once the heaving stopped, she reached towards him again.

       “The cup fell,” he mumbled, “if you need more, I’m going to have to move to go get it.”

       “Don’t.”

       “But-”

       “Don’t,” and here she gripped his pant leg, “Don’t go.”

       Ben sighed, “Alright, but if you change your mind-”

       “It’s not the flu.”

       “Edith, it’s the middle of winter, and if it was food poisoning-”

       “Benjamin, stop.”

       He clamped up then, teeth grinding as he watched her struggle to hold herself upright. Finally though, the hand that had been holding the toilet lid came down, resting atop his own that had been holding her hair back. Leaning against the outer wall of the shower, she shifted to face him, his hand tight in hers.

       “It’s not the flu.”

       “…Alright? Then what is it?”

       Edith’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she took a deep breath, took two, before finally opening to look at him, “I’m pregnant.”

       It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to the back of Ben’s head. He swore he saw stars, he swore he couldn’t breathe, and he must have looked like it too, for Edith squeezed his hand tighter still as she quickly added, “Listen, I know we’ve only really talked about kids in theory, but-”

       “Hhhow?”

       “What?”

       “How l-l-l-l-ong?”

       “I-” she hesitated, “A month? Little over a month? I haven’t gone to the doctor’s-.”

       The panic completely took over then, the stutter preventing him from getting anything out other than a stream of nonsense that only got louder and louder, higher and higher in pitch, until Edith finally had enough.

       “Ben, listen, I’m just as afraid, but if you keep going like that I’m seriously going to lose it.”

       He clamped a hand over his mouth, but the scream was still audible. Edith couldn’t help but laugh quietly. 

       “Oh my god I knew it, I knew this is what you were gonna do.”

       “This isn’t the t-t-t- fuck!” he grabbed her shoulder with his free hand, leaning close, “B-B-Baby!”

       She still couldn’t stop snickering, “Yes.”

       “Our baby!”

       “Yes.”

       He made a noise like a dying whale, and Edith broke out into laughter until she was once again forced to thrust her head into the toilet. Ben, for his part, patted her gently on the back all the while spewing panicked gibberish.  

       They stayed like that, hunched on the tile, until the sun was up, until the terror had finally subsided, and even after that, Ben sat dumbfounded on the toilet while Edith took a shower, afraid to leave her for even a moment.

       Because ‘baby’.

       Baby.

       It seemed to be the only word in his head.

       Shaking, he stood and moved to the sink to wash his face. Behind him, Ben heard the shower curtain pull to the side as Edith said, just loud enough over the water, “We don’t have to make a decision on anything right now-”

       “IIII-!” his voice broke it went so high, and as he turned around, his hands clutched to the side of his face, “-couldn’t even figure out what to name the CAT PLEASE DON’T TELL ME I HAVE TO NAME THEM RIGHT NOW!”

       Edith stared at him, dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter again, “Oh, oh so that’s your vote on this then.”

       All Ben had the capacity to do was make a noise of confusion, and Edith reached out from the shower to give his shoulder a supportive squeeze, “You… want to keep them.”

       “Ah-,” and it was like the spell on him had come undone as he stood there, blinking in the dim lighting of the bathroom as he suddenly understood what she was asking him and why she had waited so long, “I-Edith-you-…your thoughts- what are your thoughts.”

       Edith bit her lip, looking away, “I am…Ben, I’m terrified, but-,” he saw her face crack, just a little, and through the silhouette of the shower curtain, he saw her move to rest a hand against her stomach. Nothing looked like it was there, nothing at all. Had Edith not told him, he would have been completely blind, but now, seeing her do that, Ben was rocked by an indescribable feeling as she whispered, “But I really…I want to try. I didn’t even think I could conceive let alone…”

       Her face crumpled then, shoulders hunching, and without thinking, Ben moved to hold her. Water cascaded onto the linoleum, his pajamas were soaked, and Edith didn’t even have a towel, but it didn’t matter. Ben could feel her shaking as she wrapped one arm around him, the other still protectively cradling her stomach between them. He ran a hand across the space between her shoulders, mind racing as he mumbled quietly, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll schedule an appointment. It’ll be okay.”

       As a man so use to pessimism, it shocked him to know that he believed it, that everything would be alright.

       And in the end, truly, it was.


	4. Catchin' Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had voiced my want to understand the beginning of Edith and Ben's relationship on tumblr and things got out of hand because apparently, I can't keep my grubby hands off a good idea. 
> 
> Here's the post, if any of you are interested.   
> https://rabbitkinder.tumblr.com/post/172046493331/rigamaroo-jackie-sugarskull-rabbitkinder
> 
> Basically, the catalyst for this was Rigamaroo's comment:   
> "Then there's like the continued moments where they park next to each other by accident or get stuck attending a teacher potluck or an employees birthday/retirement party where the two sort of wave awkwardly from across the room. Maybe there’s a moment where Krupp tries to compliment her fundraiser cupcakes only to choke on it instead."
> 
> And I just took it from there. 
> 
> Again- did it in half an hour, kept it to under 2,000 words, and didn't edit it.

       So it had been a long week…and maybe that’s why she was standing in the corner of the room, watching the end-of-year party play out in front of her in a haze while she thumbed the tab of the hard lemonade she was nursing. A long week in a series of long weeks, yeah, and long months! Good god you’d think people could only ask so much of you and then you turn around and well…they’ve unfortunately exceeded all expectations.

       Edith snorted, shoulders jerking into a hunch as she giggled.

       Well…well, at least it was over, the year. Just like the last two, it would start right back up again come August, but hey, that’s three months off, yeah? Not bad. Not like she had anywhere really to go but, you know, idle hands and the devil’s work. For a moment, it sounded fun, until she dully remembered that her idle hands had a tendency to knit in between spooning ice cream into her mouth and fiddling with the volume control because, for some reason, British Dramas had inconsistent volume.

       She needed better hobbies, Edith thought, sipping, or maybe just better friends.

       …Maybe just friends.

       Not that she didn’t have any- no, she wouldn’t say that, it was just they were coworkers…with lives and kids and families that lived out of state who invited them to do fun things, like go to the lake or go hiking. Heck, one of the teachers- she couldn’t remember who- their son had invited them to go to Disneyland with them come July.

       She hadn’t even been to Florida.

       She hadn’t even been past the Mason Dixon Line.

       Edith sighed.

       And it’s not like they noticed her much anyway, not unless she brought food. That’s why she had slaved over those cupcakes last night, trying to get the buttermilk icing just right, trying to land the maraschino cherries just so. She could have called it sad, and truly, that’s kinda what it was, but she didn’t want to let her head go there, so she didn’t. She just kept baking, and that was enough.

       Up the way, leaning against the same wall that she was, she spied her boss idly tearing apart a cupcake wrapper. His posture said ‘I’m cool- it’s cool- I’m fine’ but his face, or at least, to Edith, screamed, ‘I am uncomfortable and do not wish to be here.’

       Maybe that’s what made her laugh, or maybe it was the fact she could spy the icing on his nose he didn’t seem to realize was there, but either way, something in her just made her want to push his buttons. Just- just send him over the edge- just a bit. He had nagged and nagged her all year, just like every year since she started, but here he was, looking like an overgrown middle schooler at the 8th grade dance, and that- the big bad Mr. Krupp being about as venomous as a shy mama’s boy- offered her just too much of an opportunity.

       The part of her brain not soaked in Hard Mike’s warned her this was a bad idea, however, it seemed like all she had to do was blink and she was already there.  

       “Liking my cupcakes, I see?”

He jumped, and she laughed again, which would have earned her what she counted as a sour look if he could have actually managed to look at her. Instead, he seemed to speak to the window on their right as he edged out, “Hello, Ms. Edith.”

       “Hello yourself, Mr. Krupp.”

       “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

       “Don’t be mean,” she chided, gently hitting the back of his hands with her own, “I’m not putting up with it- we’re off the clock. I only came to give you a heads up- you’ve got my icing all over your face, or was that intentional?”

       His ears did that thing where they went bright red, which, she assumed, usually meant that he was angry, but his face didn’t seem to quite line up with what she was use to seeing. However, before she could take note of the finer details, he roughly ran a hand down his face and looked, instead, at the icing now smeared across his palm. Edith snickered again.

       “Something else funny?”

       “Not something I’d tell my boss, no.”

       Krupp rolled his eyes, nabbing a tissue from an end table and wiping his hands before reaching for another cupcake. She wondered if he got her comment, and was partially praying he didn’t, just as he said, “I see your sticking to basics then.”

       “Huh?”

       He gestured, “You always make these at the end of year party.”

       “…Well yeah, it’s the only thing you people will eat of mine willingly.”

       “Listen, I wasn’t the one who had a problem with the carrot cake-”

       “Who said anything about carrot cake? I didn’t say anything about a carrot cake-”

       “Edith-”

       “Benjamin.”

       They stared at each other for a moment, until Krupp looked away, sighing as he picked another up, “They’re good, alright? That’s all I wanted to say. They’re good and they’re the only edible thing in this room probably outside of maybe the leather on the couch over there, so…yeah.”

       Edith blinked, her brain working to catch up to the total shift in conversation, “I wouldn’t try it. Meaner just bought that couch. I think he’d be a bit upset if he saw a giant bite mark out of it.”

       “I couldn’t care less what he thought,” he mumbled, peeling the wrapper back as he took a bite and mumbled around the mouthful, “The only thing keeping me from giving it a shot is the fact that his ass has touched it.”

       The cackle that shook Edith just about rattled her teeth from her mouth. It came without warning, because how should she have known? How could she have ever assumed he’d say something like that? As she gripped her own forearms for support, it was impossible to keep the accidental snorts from slipping in between breaths. Through watery eyes, she watched as Krupp seemed to spazm for a moment, his shoulders jumping as his face seemed at war with what his expression should have. For a moment though, just one, it looked like he smiled.

       Until he doubled over and started coughing.

       Edith moved to stand beside him, one hand on his shoulder as the other pounded the square of his back, still laughing because of course- of course. Idiot. When he finally seemed to have cleared whatever had caused him to choke, which in the meantime had gotten the attention of the entire room, Edith pushed her can of hard lemonade into his hand as she giggled through her teeth, “Benjamin god-damn Krupp, you are an absolute disaster.”

       “Thanks?” he wheezed, brows drawn and face red, shooting her a looping, loose end half smile as easy as an afterthought just before he downed the rest of her drink.

       And somewhere in the recess of Edith’s chest, she felt something twinge.  


	5. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this one from an anon:
> 
> Yo! If it isn't too much trouble, would you mind doing number 14 with Captain Blunderpants, Nice Krupp, and Edith, please? :)
> 
> This was fun. I haven't tried to write from this perspective on them before, so it was a nice challenge. Again- did it in half an hour, kept it to under 2,000 words, and didn't edit it.

     To say the day had been rough would have been the understatement of the century.

     Edith stood, seething, her grip on the mop in her hand nearly snapping it clean in half as she stared at the mess before her. The cafeteria had been turned into a canvas for some wannabe Jackson Pollock, using the lunch options as paints they had splattered across the floor, dragged up the wall, peppered across the ceiling. The fact that they got the state-certified meatballs to stick to the ceiling alone was a masterpiece in and of itself.  

     The thing they failed to realize though was that she was no art enthusiast.

     She didn’t even serve pineapple here, ever. Where and how they brought that in was a mystery to her.

     “Hey.”

     Edith turned, mop raised, only to come face to face with Benjamin, who flinched in the face of her livid glare.

     “Oh,” she dropped her stance, “Oh uh...sorry.”

      “It’s fine,” his voice was too chipper, and he still wasn’t looking at her, “It’s just- boy howdy, been a day and a half, hasn’t it, even though it’s only been half a day.”

     He chuckled at that. When she did not, she watched him wilt, just a bit.

     “I’ve already instructed the janitorial staff to come in earlier, help you out with this.”

     “That’s helpful.”

     Benjamin didn’t leave though, he just stood there, still, tugging at his tie as he took in the mess. Edith’s patience was reaching breaking point, and she was about to ask him to just get out if he was going to stand around and be useless when he finally mumbled, “Listen, if there’s anything I can do-”

     “Get them to stop.”

     He did look at her then, finally, and though he did his best to hide it, she could see the tiredness coming through around his eyes, around the tightness in his jaw, “Trust me, I’m trying.”

     Edith felt her anger fizzle back, if only a bit. “I know,” she mumbled, and for a moment, she reached out as of to pat his arm, or just- touch him? She wasn’t sure, but either way, she stalled, her hand hovering in the space between them before jerking back to cling to the mop once more, “I know...you’re trying. I know.”

     Benjamin gave a weathered sort of smile. For a moment, she wondered about telling him, about trying to throw open the veil between him and that- that- asshole he could be. She knew he had no idea, but sometimes, she wished he did, if only to understand why she was so angry, if only to finally grasp onto the fact of why everything kept going so wrong. And yet, again, Edith hesitated, because if she did that… if she did…

     She didn’t know what would happen, and honestly, as much as she was loath to admit it, that made her afraid.

     “So long as you know…” he said, snapping her out of her revery as he continued, “But is there anything else I can do? This is-,” he gestured, “...a lot. A lot for one person, considering the janitors’ll take a while longer.”

     “Ben I wouldn’t trust you with a spritzer bottle of water let alone the amount of vinegar I’m going to have to use for this.”

     “You could trust me with the mop,” he gestured.  

     “Lucile would end up as splinters within ten minutes,” Edith mumbled, gripping the mop harder.

     “...You named your mop?”

     “Yeah? Got a problem with that?”

     “No, no not at all,” he said, but he was smiling now, and she didn’t like it.

     “Listen, if you’re not going to be helpful-”

     “Alright, alright,” Benjamin said, backing away, “But just-” he backed into a table, making a noise of panic as he tripped backwards. In a flash, Edith reached out and caught him by his elbow, jerking him upright and towards her.

     She shouldn’t have, she realized later, with him standing way to close for comfort. She shouldn't have done that at all.

     “Hey, ah,” he mumbled, trying to look at her and going a little cross-eyed in the process, “Thanks, I guess, um-... listen, just know I’m with you, okay? Always. I can’t promise I can make everything work out, but I...can try.”

     “I know.” She should move away. She should pull back. She should-

     She pushed him instead, not as hard as she could have, but still.

     “Now get goin’,” she said, unable to stop the flush from creeping up her face, so she turned away, “I told you I’ve got this, and you’ve got enough on your plate without spending a good thirty minutes more apologizing to me.”

     “R-right,” She heard Benjamin take a few hesitant steps, before mumbling, “Right.” one more time and walking out of the cafeteria.

     Edith bit her lip until she heard the door close, and then, groaning, she gently slapped both her hands to her cheeks, cursing this job, cursing those kids, and cursing her stupid, stupid luck.


End file.
